"Well, you are a wonder, Mr. Crow," said Mr. Bacon hastily. "I am immensely relieved that you do know of its existence. It simplifies matters tremendously. It has been there all the time and you've never known just how to go about getting it out of the ground—isn't that the case, Mr. Crow?"
"Exactly," said Mr. Crow.
Mr. Bacon shot a significant look at Mr. Bonaparte, and that worthy put his hand suddenly to his mouth.
"Well, that's what we're here for, Mr. Crow—to get that gold out of the earth. If our estimates are correct—or, I should say, if our investigations establish the fact that it is a real vein and not merely a little pocket, there ought to be a million dollars in that piece of land of yours. Now, let me see. Just how much land do you own up there, Mr. Crow?"
"I own derned near all of it," said the marshal promptly. "'Bout seventy-five acres, I should say."
"Nothing but timberland, I assume—judging from what we have been able to observe."
"All timber. Never been cleared, 'cept purty well down the slope."
"And it is about five miles as the crow flies from Tinkletown, eh?"
"I ginerally say as the wild goose flies," said Mr. Crow, somewhat curtly.
"Well, you have heard the proposition I bring from my employers in New York City. Think it over tonight, Mr. Crow. Then, we will meet tomorrow morning at your office to complete our plans. I shall be prepared to hand you a draft for two hundred dollars to bind the bargain. What time do you reach your office?"